A Story of Two Wardens
by Mortis Mai Divawolf
Summary: A pair of Dalish cousins, Tiff and Mortis Mahariel simultaneously lose their childhood friend in a freak accident with a magic mirror. Now Tainted, they must become Grey Wardens, before the Blight destroys everything they know. -Also, the story IS NOT in chronological order. Each chapter is a random event in time.
1. A Day Out

Tamelin turned to Tiff. Her short dark hair gleamed in the evening sunlight. She was so beautiful, yet he was unable to ask her to be his life partner, since she hadn't gotten her tattoo. Mortis, however had. And Tamelin heard all the whispers before. That he and Mortis would make an excellent match. But he wanted Tiff. He tried to persuade her to get her tattoo done and over with, but she was too frightened of the needle the keeper used. She stopped walking and looked at Mortis. Mortis was frozen with ears pricked brow furrowed in concern. Tamelin decided to break the silence. "What is it?" he asked. Just then, they all turned their heads in unison in response to a loud crashing through the undergrowth. Tamelin waved his hands, getting the girls to quickly move to the shadows. He drew his bow and aimed it in the direction of the sound. And that's when the first shemlin appeared.


	2. Give That Back!

Mortis resisted the urge to giggle as she slipped from her cousin's aravel. She knew her cousin hated these childish pranks, hell, even Mortis knew that she really should stop. After all, Mortis had gotten her blood writing before her elder cousin. And she was still only sixteen, whereas Tiff was 18 and never was able to be a real hunter, because she didn't want a needle so close to her face. So now she was stuck with being Mortis' hunter apprentice. And Mortis didn't act like the adult she should be. And this is why when Tiff finally woke up, she realized that a boot was missing. Growling through her teeth she rustled through her possessions, to no avail... With one boot on, Tiff looked outside. There, she spotted Mortis. Up a tree and laughing her Creators damned arse off. And, grasped tightly within her hand, was Tiff's other boot. "Hey! Give that back!"


	3. Economic Status

**Nearly all of the chapters in this fanfic are written between me and my friend Blaze's Melodies. These are characters we both created in Dragon Age: Origins and brought to life on ... Please, your comments are welcomed here, although constructive criticism is preferred. If you would like to suggest a scene for us to write, please do so! And thank you for reading! **

Mortis recounted the money. 24 sovereigns and some change. She shook her head in puzzlement, then reread the codex. According to her calculations, they should have about ten times the amount that they did. She looked around. Nothing new or different about the campsite. She was about to write it off as a possible food expense when something gleamed in the corner of her eye. She glanced in that general direction. Tiff was seated, quietly polishing a fine pair of Dalish leather boots with rose embroidery. Mortis raised an eyebrow and rose to go speak with her cousin.

Tiff sat on a large log, eyes narrowed in concentration as she cleaned the beautiful boots. She briefly glanced to her right to see Mortis, but she instantly went back to work. The boots seemed to be all she cared about. She wiped the rag across the intricate display of color again and again. "Could you please stop staring? You're going to make me drop these things."

"24," Mortis' abnormally deep voice cracked with hidden emotions. Her face remained casual, though. "24," she repeated in a more controlled voice.

"24... what?" It sounded like a chant. Tiff didn't know what to think of it. She returned to the task at hand: Getting her boots as clean as possible.

"How much did you take?" Mortis said, with a deceptive calm.

"8," Tiff responded coolly, turning the boot over to inspect it.

Mortis had had enough. Reaching out to her elder cousin, the young rogue swiftly and deftly knocked Tiff to the ground, and in the same motion, pinned her easily beneath her knees and held the boots aloft for inspection. Tiff squirmed, but try as she might, she couldn't get free. With quiet, calculating blue eyes Mortis continued to stare at the boots. "Liar" she said in a voice only Tiff could hear.

Tiff was completely caught off guard. She couldn't even take the boots back. Her head slammed against the rough ground and she rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I'm a liar. Now let me up, will you?" She wanted to act fearless in spite of the fact that she had been caught.

Mortis spat to her left. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Alistair glance quietly away and quickly move in the direction of his tent. Without looking at her cousin, Mortis scowled into the darkness. "You don't get it, do you?" she spat.

"Get what?" Tiff asked, narrowing her eyes with a frown. Okay, now she was feigning uncertainty.

Mortis growled. All the stress from fighting darkspawn, Loghain's minions, and those Creator's-damned Blight nightmares was driving her nearer and nearer to the edge of her sanity. Tiff's eyes widened and she gasped before her cousin suddenly drove her arm into Tiff's throat. "When will you ever get through your thick skull that we don't have the luxury of time or economical status to be buying stupid items just for pleasure?" she grated through clenched teeth. Tiff's face was turning red. It was so very hard to breathe. "Feeling the seriousness of the situation now, are we?" Mortis said with a humorless grin. "If we spend money on things," she gestured with her free arm at Tiff's new boots, "like that, then we have less money to spend when we NEED it. Understand?" She asked, while gently pressing her arm deeper into Tiff's throat.

Tiff wanted to run, but that was impossible at the moment. Nowhere to go? Fantastic. She waited and her face shifted into a darker shade of crimson.

Alistair looked around. The others seemed to have preoccupied themselves so as to not have to break up the two fighting elves. As the senior Grey Warden, Alistair finally came to the conclusion that it was his job to break up any disputes amongst the ranks. He puffed out his chest and stepped over by Mortis. She ignored him. He cleared his throat awkwardly. Again she paid him no heed. He glanced down at Tiff. Her eyes were slowly glazing over and her tongue was sticking out. Alistair sighed, then grabbed Mortis around the waist and struggled to pull her off. Maker, for such a small woman, she was exceedingly strong! He pulled harder and finally yanked her off of her elder cousin. Mortis shrieked and flailed, but Alistair had had enough. Turning on his heel, he carried Mortis over by the lake and heaved her into the frigid water to wade back, cold and wet.

_Nearly all of the chapters in this fanfic are written between me and my friend Blaze's Melodies. These are characters we both created in Dragon Age: Origins and brought to life on ... Please, your comments are welcomed here, although constructive criticism is preferred. If you would like to suggest a scene for us to write, please do so! And thank you for reading! _


	4. A FAILED ATTEMPT AT ROMANCE 01: Tiliana

**A Warning To All Of My Readers: This was an attempt that Blaze and I made a year ago to try to write a romantic scene between Tiff and Leliana. The test - for us - was to send back and forth only SINGLE sentences. It is not our best work. Not by a long shot. But it was really fun to do. Thanks for reading! Please comment!**

Leliana looked deeply into Tiff's dark eyes.

Tiff squirmed away with an awkward frown.

Leliana pursued Tiff and caught the elf around the waist.

Tiff's face flushed crimson at the unwanted contact as she froze with a rigid flinch.

Leliana leaned forward as

she ran her fingers through Tiff's short-cropped black hair.

Tiff's legs stumbled awkwardly as Leliana closed the suffocating gap between them, a move that caused Tiff to stagger to a sitting position.

Leliana gracefully sat in Tiff's slender lap and wrapped her arms around Tiff's neck, and leaned even closer.

Tiff's brow rose and she stared intently, unsure of what to do.

Leliana pressed Tiff back as the bard's fingers trailed down Tiff's leather armor.

Tiff winced as the bard's gentle fingers brushed a bruise that the elf had acquired earlier that day, and leaned forward, kissing her roughly in an attempt to delay whatever was about to happen.

Leliana gently pressed into the kiss, sliding her hand up and around the back of Tiff's neck, her touch tickling the elf rogue and sending shivers down Tiff's spine.

Tiff placed her hands around Leliana's neck and felt the goosebumps crawl down her back, forcing her to break away and breathe.

The mood was gone, and so Leliana stood and brushed herself off, her face showing a combination of hurt and frustration as she looked back at Tiff, who was still in the process of awkwardly scrambling to her feet.

Tiff stood and shuffled away with a sullen frown, clearly frustrated about her own reluctance in Leliana's presence.


	5. FAIRY DRAGONS!

**I remember I was bored when I wrote this.. And I was reading about tiny dragons in P. Anthony's Currant Events... I'm sorry.**

"Well, since we're in this damned cave, I suppose I could practice some of the magic I learned from Flemeth's grimoire..." Mortis, Tiff, and Zevran exchanged worried glances as the pretty sorceress pulled a black bound book from somewhere on her scantally clad body.

Humming softly, Morrigan turned the pages of her grimoire. Finally, she looked up at Mortis and said, "Do you still want that fairy dragon?" Mortis's jaw nearly dropped. She was speechless. Morrigan smiled then, and proceeded to remove certain items from her pack. The three members of the peanut gallery exchanged worried looks now. Was Morrigan attempting to play Maker now? Before anyone could move, the shape-shifting arcane warrior began to chant softly, waving her staff slowly over one of the tables, clustered with dragon eggs. The air began to smell of a mixture of ozone and blood. But Morrigan was no blood mage, she had too much pride for her to give up herself to a demon. Suddenly, with a final flash of blue light, the air returned to normal as the formerly large dragon eggs were now viewed as being smaller, and more colorful. The eggs were about the same size as a hen's egg. When picked up, though, they seemed to almost hum and sing like the lyrium used to transform them. Morrigan lifted a pair up and handed them to Mortis saying, "The rest will be released in the forest to live as creatures of the wild. Normally I would abhor anyone doing this, but this time it is allowed. These two are perfectly tame, and as intelligent as a mabari." Mortis carefully removed a pair of gloves and wrapped the two tiny eggs up before carefully placing them in the smallest pocket of her pack.


	6. RANDOMOSITY

**OK, so this is a fanfic chapter that Blaze and I were writing for a while, but I seem to have lost some of the documents for it, so if it's really confusing, I'm sorry. I'll remind Blaze to work on it with me when I get home...**

Leliana glanced over at Tiff. She seemed distressed. Leliana wanted to go speak with her, perhaps find out about whatever might be troubling her. But Zev beat her to it.

The assassin chuckled. "My dear Tiff, you look so tired." Tiff glanced up. Zevran smiled as he continued," I think I might know what you need." Tiff gave the assassin an odd look. "A horse?" she replied. The elf laughed, and shook his head. "No, I believe that its a bit late for that." He leaned closer to Tiff. "I was thinking, perhaps we retire to your tent and I show you some of the massage skills one learns only in an Antivan whorehouse. "Tiff's eye's widened. "You don't mean...?" Zevran smiled seductively. Tiff resisted the urge to shudder in disgust.

Tiff looked at Zevran. His inquiring eyes drove her to finally say, "Mortis has a hard time trusting any man, having had her heart broken more times than one can count." She stared off into the distance, and Zevran glanced silently at Mortis's troubled face as she stared emotionally into the flames. Her brow furrowed with concentration, shoulders hunched with the invisible bulk of the responsibilities of a Grey Warden. And Zevran immediately knew what he had to do. He walked over to where the troubled Dalish sat. "My dear Warden, you look so tired..."

"I wish I could tell him how I feel. But...what if he's repulsed by my inferior obsessions? Oh, I'll just DIE. What if-" Mortis stopped her ramblings once she noticed her target audience was no longer listening. "Could you shut up five minutes?" Tiff demanded in annoyance. Mortis's brow creased and her mouth fell open. The outburst threw her off guard. Tiff hardly ever spoke more than a few words a day, much less a complete sentence. "Tiff, what are you thinking about?" Mortis inquired with a tilt of her head, her eyes trailing over the figure sitting in the corner of the tent. Tiff didn't answer at first. She kept contemplating whatever deed was plaguing her mind. And then one name was spoken. "Leliana." Mortis's jaw dropped and her eyes flashed. As if on cue, Tiff's eyes widened and she looked up frantically. "I-I meant life. Life." It was too late; Mortis had heard her loud and clear. "You like her!" she screeched with a toying grin, throwing her arms up. "Mortis, shut up right now or I swear I'll-" "Calm down, Tiff. It's just, I never knew you had the ability to...to love anyone," Mortis finished while her laughter rang out across the still night. Tiff's face flushed red and she jumped to her feet. She stormed out of the tent with a few nasty curses.

Mortis closed her eyes. Zevran kissed her gently, hands moving slowly from her neck, down to her back, then her hips. *Thud!* Mortis snapped out of her reverie, but her face remained in an eternally calm state. She quickly assessed the situation. Nothing to be too concerned about. Tiff had entered the camp in a state of exhaustion. The party had been out of camp for a week, off in Orzammar, helping Lord Harrowmont beat Prince Bhelen for the throne. Tiff looked tired. Her armor was encrusted with a mixture of crimson and black. There was a bit of rust on the plates, the mail, and even Tiff's hair had the streaks of rust from wearing a wet helmet. Mortis moved from the fire, a hot tin cup of coffee in hand. Walking smoothly and evenly over to Tiff, she handed the mug over. Tiff gave Mortis a pure look of loathing, then swallowed her coffee in one slug. And with that, Tiff retired to her tent, leaving Mortis feeling rather confused and slightly dejected. She looked around at the rest of the camp and sighed. Rising from the stump on which she sat, Mortis glanced around, then called "Alright, who's taking first watch with me?"

Mortis shivered. A cold draft had crept it's way down the shadowy corridor. She made her way back to her room and silently slid into a soft, blue cotton robe, before quickly returning to the hallway. She slipped down the tight servants' passageway only to run headlong into Tiff heading up. Tiff's usually slicked back hair had an unusual ruffled look to it and her eyes seemed a little glazed. A tiny smile was plastered to her gaunt face. Mortis swore in Dalish. "Tiff, what the hell are you doing up this late io the night?" "I should ask the same of you cousin. You should be sleeping. We march at dawn." "Yes, yes. I am in fact.. Heading down to the kitchen to fix myself a quick bedtime snack. You see, I didn't eat much at dinner and so now I'm absolutely starving!" Tiff yawned lazily and stared at Mortis blankly. After some time, she finally said, "What is your opinion on what Riordan said..?" "What, about how a Grey Warden dies when they kill an archdemon? I have already taken care of that, cousin. Go to bed and get some rest." Tiff looked at Mortis quietly, but seemed too tired to question her younger cousin. Nodding her head like a drunk bird, she shambled off to bed. Mortis picked up the hem of her robe and hurried quickly down the dark passageway, her feet making no sound.

Mortis huffed. The red-faced cook scrambled to get the coffee. Mortis sat down on a stool next to Tiff and looked into her cousin's dark eyes. She scowled when Tiff sighed melodramatically and said, "Arright, Tiff. Enough of the tortured gay girl syndrome. Get your head in the game. We've a forced march at sun-up. And despite the fact that I don't think a forced march will do any good, since it'll lower morale and exhaust the troops, it's not my decision to make. C'mon cousin. Lets drink our coffee and take our final moment of peace before all hell breaks loose."

Mortis sighed. She didn't want to do this. "As the temporary leader of the Grey Wardens of Ferelden, I have to march with the troops, lest they view me as a coward. Also, since we are in need of as many GreyWardens as we can possibly muster, if you choose not to go, then I will be forced to order you to march with us. Do not test me." Mortis glared into Tiff's eyes, her feet slipping into a defensive stance. Tiff glared back at her cousin. "Since when did you become 'leader of the Grey Wardens', cousin? I don't recall any formal event stating you to be such." Mortis' back straightened as she appeared to become the tallest creature in the room, her blue eyes darkening to a near black. She had always been a little taller than Tiff, but nobody ever noticed.

**... Oh dear... How will we ever clean this mess up? I've deleted the stuff from my phone, so there's no chance of finding anything _THERE_... ._.**


	7. XXX

**Ok, so Blaze and I decided to try out another romance scene, this time between Mortis and Zevran. It's the same cliché scene that everyone knows about. That's right: The earring scene. We're not finished, as both of us are simultaneously experiencing writer's-block. **

Mortis gently cupped her hands around Zevran's. Beneath the warmth of her fingers, she could feel the coldness of the earring in her lover's palm. "Is this.. Is this a proposal?" she asked of him. She could see the mixture of emotions tearing away at his very being. With the look of a condemned man heading for the gallows, he murmured in a soft voice "If you wish it." The Warden's breath caught in her throat. Her heart pounded as she took a step, then two steps closer. Before she could think about changing her mind, Mortis tilted her head up, wrapped her arms around the assassin's neck, and kissed him passionately. Zevran pulled her closer, lifting her somewhat, and then something jabbed her in the back. The two elves disentangled themselves to see that Zevran was still clutching the earring. Mortis shook her head and chuckled. She took the earring from his hand and removed her choker. "I'm not really fond of earrings," she said, carefully sliding the post end of the earring through a loop on her choker. "They have a tendency to get caught on things..." The assassin slid his arm around her waist as she fastened the choker, now glittering slightly from the gold earring...

**And... That's as far as we've gotten...**


End file.
